Sublime Animosity
by Solo Duet
Summary: Bad boy Seifer Almasy enrolled into Balamb High, stealing and breaking hearts. But then a certain individual captures his eye and despite what others say about him, Seifer is curious and determined to meet this boy. But will they get along? SxS AU
1. One

**Title: **Sublime Animosity

**Rating:** M

**Genre:** Romance/Drama. Maybe slight angst.

**Summary:** Bad boy Seifer Almasy enrolled into Balamb High, stealing and breaking hearts. But then a certain individual captures his eye; and despite what others say about him, Seifer is curious and determined to meet this boy. But will they get along?

**Pairing/s:** SeiferxSquall.

**Disclaimer: **As soon as Hell freezes over :D

**Notes:**** If this story sounds familiar it is mostly probably you have read the original version before, but I have been told it sounded too much like others, thus, I have rewritten it. Please excuse me.**

**Warnings:** YAOI, High School AU, OOC-ness, Swearing. . . A cranky, morning-hating!Squall.

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_**Chapter One**_

**Good Morning, World, I Hate You.**

Squall Leonhart was not a morning person. In fact, he hated this time of day.

Absolutely _despised _it.

A soft sigh escaped through soft, pale lips as Squall rested his head on the marble bench in his kitchen, his eyes closed with thought and tiredness. Sighing once more, the brunet lifted himself off the smooth surface and shuffled over to the other side of the room, retrieving a mug on the way.

Pouring himself some coffee, he proceeded to add a ridiculous amount of sugar to the dark drink. Although the brunet didn't look it, he had a pathetic weakness of foods sweet and sugary.

Sipping the drink thoughtfully, Squall felt a little more awake and calm from feeling of the hot liquid soothing his chest and to the tips of his fingers. Making his way to the small balcony, the brunet settled himself safely on the ledge, wearily watching the people below, wondering where they get their energy in the morning. Just watching them made Squall feel even more tired.

The young male lived alone, in a small apartment in a small and quiet part of the city. His home wasn't terribly flashy, but held a casual environment, styled with simple furnishings of his own creative taste. The apartment had five rooms, one reserved as Squall's art studio. The walls and floors were literally scattered and stacked with paintings and numerous sketchbooks of interesting clothing designs. Fabrics of the sort draped over what seemed to be a table, almost leaving no surface of the furniture untouched.

Squall stifled a yawn and settled his half empty mug down onto his lap. He was starting to regret the fact that he stayed up till the early hours of the morning just to finish his latest fashion design. He held out his hand in front of him, inspecting his bruised fingers from pricking himself with the needle one too many times: fatigue causes the brunet to become uncoordinated. But what was even more annoying is that he was dissatisfied with the finished product in the end.

Scrunching up his nose, Squall let out a soft sneeze. Deciding it would not be a good idea sitting out in the cold, wearing nothing but sweatpants and a thin shirt, the young male walked back into a warmer area. He set his coffee down and proceeded to the bathroom to bathe, grumbling all the way there.

The young brunet almost fell asleep in the shower. He had caught himself leaning against the cold tiled wall, nodding off ever so slightly. He cursed at the hot water's soothing magic and stepped out quickly, changing and brushing his teeth. Entering the lounge once more, Squall glanced at the clock and was relieved that not much time had passed during his unpredictable nap.

Discovering that his coffee had turned cold made the brunet unhappy. He poured the remaining contents down the drain before washing the cup and leaving it to dry on the sink. Looking at the clock again he decided that going to school early wouldn't hurt. Then he paused at the thought.

"Too tired," he mumbled to himself, sprawling over the kitchen bench again and closing his eyes for a brief second. And as if every existence in the world was against him, a taunting voice came echoing into his ears, vibrating in his head.

'_Not good enough.'_

Squall made an effort to turn his head and leer at the motionless frame adorning his latest creation in his art studio from the kitchen. The more he looked at it, the more flaws he had come to discover, and even if they were the most miniscule imperfection Squall always seemed to over-exaggerate them in his mind.

An artist is never satisfied after all.

Aware of the time, the brunet slid off the cold kitchen bench and retrieved his messenger bag from his art studio, along with his file of school work. As he approached the front door, Squall slipped on his beloved bomber jacket before leaving the apartment.

Squall stepped out onto the pathway outside, taking a swift left down the street to begin walking down the usual route he took to school.

The school was a fair distance away, the trip taking an approximated thirty minutes, forty at the most during heavy traffic. Despite the long walk, Squall quite enjoyed it. It allowed him to think freely: it comforted his mind.

He adjusted his bag strap, the heavy weight of his bag now starting to strain his shoulder. Squall let it slip to the ground and rubbed his sore muscles, wincing softly. Crouching low, he inspected his bag, wondering why his belongings have gotten so heavy.

A small smile came to his lips as he discovered more than enough boxes of simple packed lunches at the bottom of his bag.

Squall sighed, slinging the bag back on his shoulder and continued walking. He concluded that his father had broken into his apartment and sneaked the food into his bag this morning while he was asleep.

Time after time, Squall reminded his father that he could take care of himself. Laguna did agree, but still fretted over his son like a worrying mother over her small toddler. It annoyed the brunet, especially when the older man became overly concerned; which happened once, to a point, where Squall became paranoid.

After a while, Squall convinced Laguna to allow him to live by himself: he wanted to prove his independence. Seeing his son was able to care for himself, Laguna's motherly antics died down dramatically, but he still pestered Squall with worried questions every chance he got.

Squall chuckled. He loved his father, of course, but he still wished that Laguna wouldn't worry so much.

During his silent pondering, Squall reached the school without even realizing until the sound of noisy students reached his ears. The loud chatter brought Squall's mind back to the present and he quickly made a swift bee-line towards the school entrance, avoiding large groups who he suspected would be more than glad to pester him in the morning.

Squall was not exactly loved, but was not exactly hated either.

'_It's an unfortunate cycle,'_ Squall mused to himself, sliding the door open to the school's art room. He barely took a step forward without stopping to stare at the people who were already residing inside his sanctuary in the school.

"Squally!"

Dear, Hyne, Squall forced himself to nod at the greeting in return as a bubbly girl bounded up towards him, latching onto his arm immediately. Squall set his bag down and patted the girl awkwardly on the head, her bright, round eyes staring up at him expectantly.

"Selphie, what are you doing here?" Squall finally said, wriggling his arm free from the girl's death grip, "Don't you usually sit with-"

"Zell?" the young female finished for him, "Yeah, well, since I'm such a star student (she said with a grin) Headmaster Cid asked me to show the new kid around before school starts."

Before Squall could question Selphie, another figure moved into his view. The brunet was slightly impressed by the newcomer's frame: it was strong and solid, and, he had to admit, it was attractive.

Steely grey met bright jade and Squall was immediately feeling slightly small, his lithe figure appearing frail compared to the other, but wasn't at all intimidated, he just felt small. The staring continued and no words were spoken until Selphie broke the awkward silence.

"Squally, meet-" she barely uttered anything before a high-pitched chorus of the word "SEIFER!" could be heard from the hallway outside, and in a split second, the art room was flooded with students of different value, most were of the female race.

Squall choked and stepped back, avoiding the stampede, from getting crushed under the heels of many girls. He watched as the crowd formed a ring around the one named 'Seifer', and how this 'Seifer' grinned.

Oh yes, Seifer Almasy loved attention, and having an attractive appearance does not make it difficult for him to receive it. Females would kill to have hair as golden as his. Lightly tanned skin made him look luminous and healthy. His figure was desirable among both genders; well toned muscles and strong broad shoulders. Jade green eyes could entrance and lure people under his charm. And on his face, he wore an everlasting smirk, radiating arrogance.

Oh yes, life was easy for Seifer. Women and men would practically throw themselves at him, fawning over his body. Seifer also had a talented tongue, both verbally and for questionable uses behind closed doors, creating good opportunities for the blond to get a good lay; he loves to dominate in bed.

Oh yes, and of course, he knew he possessed such charming features, the many fools he had wooed never failed to be in awe with his body were his living proof, constantly cooing over how luscious he looked, and how wonderful he was.

And Squall felt like vomiting.

His senses were overwhelmed with loud, screaming cheers and sighs and the cheap perfume was absolutely…

Squall dramatically stumbled out of the room, breathing deeply, his bag clutched to his chest. He looked back over his shoulder and watched how the women where practically hanging off Seifer, and, to his disgust, Selphie had seemed to also be hypnotized by this man. Well, this was absolutely fucking dandy, Squall scoffed. The beginning of his week was ruined by his sanctuary being stolen by Selphie (not that Squall thought she was awful) and some attention-loving fool who attracted almost entire campus, but Squall did have a habit of exaggerating.

The brunet reclined to different room in the school: his first class; seemingly to have decided he might as well wait here until the bell sounded, and as it did, he watched his fellow classmates fill the room, occupying the seats one by one. Selphie soon entered the classroom, claiming the seat next to Squall. Squall shoved his bag over to give her some room, because, despite being so small, the girl somehow took up a lot of space.

"Nice guy, that Seifer," she intoned, a little too dreamily for Squall's liking and he scowled. Selphie turned to face the brunet's frown and a silly grin spread across her face that Squall did not like so much either.

"Oh don't worry, Squally," Selphie chirped, "You're not so bad looking yourself, kinda like one of those pretty boys from a drama."

Squall almost jerked away from her in shock, denying the bubbly girl of any related thoughts, but Selphie just cheekily gave him a less than understanding comment.

The teacher's voice was dead to him, as to everyone else, but apparently not Selphie, whose cheerful mood impossible to dull. He sat at the back of the class, pen in his idle fingers, quickly sketching out smooth lines on a piece of paper, forming a picture of a lion in front of him. Grey eyes glanced up at the clock, watching and waiting in frustration as the hands seemed to slow down, and so, Squall dedicated his hour to drawing numerous lions and playing tic-tac-toe with the female beside him as she goggled at his drawings.

The bell startled Squall, causing him to create an unattractive black line to be smeared across the lion's face and Selphie pouted beside him, looking down at the picture.

"Damn, I really, really liked that one," she whined, watching Squall scrunch up the piece of paper in dismay: he was quite proud of the sketch as well. Selphie patted Squall on the back and smiled, unable to stay disappointed for too long. "But you've done better, Squally! Anyway, recess! Why dontcha come with me to the basketball courts? I'm gonna meet up with Seifer there and show him the rest of the school!"

Squall was about to consider Selphie's offer, but the mentioning of Seifer pushed such thoughts out of his mind. He tucked his belongings into his bag before replying with a casual: "Sorry, I have some things to finish," and hoped not to hurt the girl's feelings. His excuse was partially true, he did wish to complete some drawings left unfinished in his pad, but he was also judging, personality wise. Squall felt that he couldn't survive Seifer's attention-loving ways, and the aura of arrogance the blond had was even enough to make Squall-

"Seifer isn't bad," Selphie's voiced echoed into his mind. The brunet blinked, staring down at his friend who had a sly smile on her face. "Oh, don't make that face," she teased, "I know you way better than that, Squally. You think Seifer is bad, dontcha? Don't assume things before you have solid evidence, Mr. Leonhart-y."

Squall raised a fine eyebrow at Selphie's last spoken words and the girl displayed a goofy grin. "Okay, I know that wasn't the greatest nickname, BUT YOU GOTTA MEET SEIFER! He's really great, I guarantee it! And if you don't, I'll- I'll tell your dad that you've been working at that place with the pro-"

"Squall works as a prostitute?" a loud voice inclined. Squall and Selphie whipped their heads around, Selphie cackling with amusement and Squall scowling darker than ever.

"No, Zelly," Selphie laughed, trying to catch her breath as she snickered pathetically, "I was gonna say 'Professional Fashion Designers', but your guess is much more blackmail material."

The tattooed man grinned sheepishly, seemingly shrinking under Squall insulted glare. The girl swung her colourful bag onto her back and tugged at Squall's wrist harshly, causing the amateur artist to stumble forwards.

"Let's go!" she jeered, literally dragging Squall behind her. Squall struggled and protested, he didn't want to physically hurt the girl, but she was forcing him to do something he desperately would have given anything to avoid. As soon as the basketball courts came into his view, the brunet yanked his hand away from the other, absentmindedly caressing his wrist.

"Selphie," he began, "I have other things to do."

The cheeky grin on Selphie's face did not assure him. The girl peered and waved over his shoulder, indicating that the new student was behind him. His shoulders dropped slightly: he needed to escape. Squall did not bother to turn around to greet 'Seifer', but as Selphie shoved him aside to greet Seifer with a warm hug, Squall had to swivel around to regain his balance.

"Almasy," Zell sneered darkly. Squall was surprised by Zell's behaviour, watching the shorter blond stare at Seifer with deep hatred. Selphie lead Seifer towards the other two males, and Squall sensed Zell tensing. Jade green eyes settled onto Zell first, twinkling with mischievous glee.

"Fancy meeting you here, eh, Chicken-wuss?" Seifer mused out loud, almost laughing openly. The other's baby-blue eyes narrowed, a whisper of a growl escaping from his lips.

"Fuck you, Almasy."

"Yeah, love you too, Dincht," Seifer drawled in a mocking tone. Zell narrowed his eyes further. Both of the blondes had known each other since young, as they both attended the same school, until Zell moved away.

They also hated each other's guts with an absolute passion, or rather, Zell hated Seifer; whereas, Seifer found wondrous enjoyment in Zell's pain. At every opportunity that would come, both boys would seize it for the chance to humiliate the other, but it was usually Seifer who reined victorious.

Selphie looked from one blond to the other before beaming with delight. She slapped Zell on the back goodheartedly, resting her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

"You never told me you knew Seifer!" she exclaimed excitedly. Zell grumbled something which sounded like the words 'Unfortunately', but Selphie failed to catch it, but Squall never had seen Zell so severely out of character from his joyous self; Squall concluded that he was correct about Seifer's negative influences.

Squall tensed when he was next to have Seifer's green eyes on him, and he reserved his posture, calmly waiting for the opportunity to leave, but as Seifer reach out a gracious hand, Squall's mood darkened.

"Seifer Almasy," the blond declared, more than introduced.

"A fucking bastard," Zell added, shooting a glare at Seifer. The larger blond could only glare back, but with a hint of mockery. Squall took Zell's words into mind, hesitantly grasping Seifer's hand and shaking it with greeting.

"Charmed," Squall spoke with forced politeness, his voice steady and void of emotion, just like his eyes, or so he hoped. He released the handshake and dismissed himself from the edgy atmosphere, much to Selphie's objections; it was all too uncomfortable for him.

As Squall started to walk away, Seifer voice drifted towards him and Squall had the patience to ignore it and continue on his way, but it turned out the blond seemed to be as stubborn as he was. Squall pivoted on the spot, being the stupid thing to do as he nearly turned right into the chest of Seifer Almasy.

"Whoa, there," Seifer warned, gripping Squall's shoulders before the young brunet had a chance to stumble and fall backwards. Squall shook the blonde's hands off him and staggered away from the large male, straightening his misplaced jacket in an attempt to appear as indifferent as possible.

"Yes?" Squall offered coldly, not meeting the other's eyes, seemingly more interested with his clothes. Though, Seifer was not disheartened by the actions.

"I didn't catch your name," Seifer grinned in a friendly manner. Squall's sharp eyes observed the blond before him, pale lips pursed, frowning judgingly.

"You have no need for it," Squall heard himself say, voice as unwelcoming as ever.

"But I want it," the blond reasoned, less than intimidated by Squall's icy nature. Squall was a little glad that Selphie wasn't in their presence otherwise he'd have to force himself to be polite to the limit of his patience and probably mental capability. Ignoring the arrogant blond's expectant gaze, Squall continued on his way. Surprised and offended by Squall's response, Seifer angrily lurched forward, grasping the other's forearm in a firm grip.

"Your name, please, Princess," Seifer pressed with mock respect, smirking evidently as he watched the gloomy brunet glower at him affrontingly. Tugging his arm away, Squall glared at Seifer, practically sneering his words.

"Squall Leonhart."

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To be continued, children :D 

If you spot any mistakes, especially grammar ones, please let me know!

I've been informed on my tenses are not the best, so, yus xD

Review, if you'd be so kind!


	2. Two

**Title: **Sublime Animosity

**Rating:** M

**Genre:** Romance/Drama. Maybe slight angst.

**Pairing/s:** SeiferxSquall.

**Summary:** Bad boy Seifer Almasy enrolled into Balamb High, stealing and breaking hearts. But then a certain individual captures his eye; and despite what others say about him, Seifer is curious and determined to meet this boy. But will they get along?

**Disclaimer:** I DON'T EVEN OWN MY OWN SANITYYYYY :D

**Notes: **Mostly boring chapter, just introducing more characters xD; The real stuff come next chapter.

**Warnings:** YAOI, High School AU, OOC-ness, Swearing

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_**Chap**__**ter Two**_

**You're Annoying, Please Piss ****Off.**

"Squall Leonhart."

"Pretty name, very unique," Seifer commented, folding his arms and staring off into some random direction in the sky as if lost in thought. Squall did not bother to watch the arrogant man, already striding halfway through the campus with a forced pace. When Seifer returned to the world of the living, he found no Squall in the place where he had last saw him.

Seeing the small brunet fleeing up the entrance of the school, Seifer grinned and hurried after the leather-clad boy, a little intrigued and curious to know the other teenager's character. He leaned out and captured Squall's wrist, the anti-social artist tugged off balance. Seifer caught him by the shoulders for the second time that day.

"What do you want?" Squall muttered, untangling himself from the blond's grip. As Seifer was about to answer the brunet was forcibly shoved out of the way by a wall of young female students smiling pleasantly at the blond.

"Hello, I'm Rinoa," a fair lady spoke, offering her hand in return of a handshake. Seifer took Rinoa's lovely features into account, and instead of shaking her hand, he gently grasped it, brushing his lips over her knuckles like a true gentleman.

The girl looked as she would have fainted. Squall scoffed, turning to the other direction and sworn that he almost felt like throwing up, probably was. The blond stared after him, wanting to follow him on impulse. But as Rinoa's red lips quirked into a smile and gestured Seifer with her hand, Seifer's attention was quickly directed away from the escaping brunet and to the attractive woman in front of him.

"Do you need a tour? I'd would be more than willing to show you around, yes?"

Seifer shrugged all too happily: a pretty, stylish girl as his tour guide, why not? The dark-haired girl's smile was more realistic now as she beckoned Seifer in the other direction.

"I'll show you the cafeteria first."

Rinoa expertly led the way, Seifer surrounded by her over-excited friends, not that the blond seemed to mind. Rinoa informed Seifer of the stereo-typical seating plans which were arranged accordingly to whatever the students were labeled as, ranging from the highly-feared rebels to the lowly-respected, yet hard working scholars.

"We," Rinoa motioned, "Sit over there."

Seifer looked across the room to see a group of lovely fashionable women of different, yet fine tastes. Oh yes, Seifer Almasy was going to enjoy his life here in his new school. Oh yes, oh yes.

"Where does Squall sit?" Seifer suddenly blurted out and tables of several heads flicked to his direction, throwing him off guard. The dark-haired girl looked at him with a sense of disbelief.

"Squall?" she repeated with a nasty tone, "Squall Leonhart?"

"Am I missing some important information here?" Seifer asked awkwardly. He noticed the room's stare intensifying at his question. Rinoa laughed cautiously, brushing her smooth hair back.

"Not much is known about Leonhart," she started carefully, "But despite that, everything we hear about him is bad. I mean, you know…"

"His attitude is awful," Rinoa's friend spoke up, counting off her well manicured fingers, "And before he came to this school, his background was dodgy; drugs and the sort. And once," she broke into a whisper, huddling close, "I saw him sneaking off with some other man to the shady part of town during school hours."

Many heads nodded vigorously at the statement, and Seifer watched them doubtfully. All attention was turned as the cafeteria door was swung open and ,the blond noted, some people moaned with despair and mockery. Seifer watched as two figures entered the cafeteria, and as he observed, they were almost complete opposites of each other. One of a feminine build, her frame tiny compared to the large, darkly-tanned male beside her.

Almost immediately, a group of girls stood up against the pair as if rehearsed, it was too fluent to be spur-of-the-moment. The silver-haired woman seemed to have taken it as a challenge, as she bravely leered at the girls with a piercing red eye.

"MOVE," was her simple command, strong and stable, but she was laughed at. The provokers laughed and jeered, mimicking her in the most insulting way. The group's reaction appeared to make the larger boy move uncertainly and with discomfort. He nervously nudged his female friend.

"Maybe we should go, Fujin, ya know?" he said rationally, dreading any conflict. A sound of "Ooh" sounded in unison at the dark male's words before a girl spoke up, her words intended abuse.

"That would be the smartest thing you would ever say in you entire life, eh, Raijin?" she crooned with glee as Raijin took the words harshly. Seeing her friend insulted, the young woman calmly walked up to the other girl, her face void of emotion.

"Die," Fujin uttered and the girl was sprawled on the ground a mere flash. Shocked, her friends rushed to her aid and Fujin seemed satisfied, especially when several people cheered for her. She motioned to her comrade with her hand and he followed her out.

"Bitch!" the girl shrieked, "How dare you punch me!"

Fujin had predicted retaliation towards her, and so she calmly sent back a kick towards the girl, but the silver-haired was nearly put off balance as a strong hand gripped her ankle tightly. She looked across her; at least the enraged girl was not trying to harm her.

"Ladies, please," Almasy chimed, dropping Fujin's leg and separating the two further away from each other. "Entertainment is over," he announced to the awed crowd and they returned to their chatter in hurried whispers, glancing at the people who were involved in the fight, and some smiled at the light-haired girl with appreciation. The blond looked at the opposite pair before him with interest and amusement.

"You two, come with me."

Fujin looked at Seifer skeptically, but the boy named Raijin was quick to follow, so the woman had no other choice but to tag along. Silence was the only thing between them until Seifer stopped and turned around.

"Where did you learn to punch like that?" were his first words and the pair looked surprised at such an abrupt and unpredictable question.

Politely, Fujin answered, "MYSELF."

Seifer grinned roguishly, reaching out a hand, "I like you. Seifer Almasy."

Fujin took his hand firmly before answering loudly, "FUJIN."

Seifer glanced at the large teenager behind him who was waiting with anticipation to be the next acknowledged by a very popular student. The blonde smiled with regard and cocked his head to the side, examining the male's quite bulky frame. He was surprised to have seen a person his age to be more muscle-bound than he was, but it wasn't degrading, he had to admit.

"You seem interesting," Seifer spoke pleasantly and the dark-skinned boy beamed with respect, and Seifer felt his admiration, "What is you name?"

"Raijin! It's Raijin, sir, but you can call me Rai, ya know?" the boy name Raijin answered with high-spirits. Seifer was surprised at the enthusiasm but beamed back at him. He squeezed between the two, arms over their shoulders, giving Raijin a friendly slap on the back. Though, Fujin was not very fond of the contact, but she resigned to accepting Seifer's friendly touches.

"Fujin, I have your d-" the voice was stopped short and Seifer peered across the hallway. Squall's cold eyes stared at him, frown on his face. Seifer noticed a small disk cover between Squall's gloved fingers.

"Interesting; the lover of screamers, eh?" Seifer attempted a friendly conversation, but the gloomy brunet's continued his dangerous and, perhaps, intimidating silence. The woman slipped from under Seifer's arms to retrieve her music and Squall swiftly walked away as soon as it was handed over.

Almasy broke away from Raijin, informing his new found friend to meet with him in a designated place during the next break before he rushed after Squall. Raijin almost jumped with joy, having found a new companion, and Fujin also had to give a small smile at the pleasant fact, but it soon faded when Raijin hugged her tightly, blinded with happiness and the boy received a painful blow to his head.

Leonhart cringed as he heard loud footsteps tearing after him, and he dreaded the calling voice that followed soon after. Thankfully, Seifer did not touch him this time, but instead he blocked his path grinning stupidly once more.

"Didn't you hear me, Leonhart?" he huffed childishly, joining the brunet's side.

Squall almost clucked his tongue in distaste when Almasy used his last name so casually, but instead he returned the question with a simple, deadpan excuse.

"Headphones," he mumbled, pointing to his ear obviously. The blond became aware of the blaring music coming from the black earphones at a volume that sounded less than healthy. Squall pushed past Seifer, indicating their short conversation was over; besides, even with Squall's loud music he could hear Almasy's thundering footsteps from metres away.

Surprised and a little annoyed from being cut off, Seifer strode alongside Squall, much to the brunet's displeasure. As long as the brute was not keen enough to start a conversation…

"What're listening to?" the blond asked curiously, leaning over to hear the music better, so much that his ear nearly touched Squall's. Startled, the brunet jerked back, slamming into the lockers with a metallic thud, onlookers bewildered at the action.

Seifer pulled back and laughed as Squall flushed with embarrassment.

"Did I scare you?" he asked bemusedly, which sounded more tauntingly to Squall's ears. The moody boy narrowed his eyes and irritably shoved Seifer away and stormed off ahead. It was then Seifer found delight in annoying the usually unresponsive boy. He hurried after Squall.

Sneaking up behind the angered teenager, Almasy leaned over and loudly repeated his question; "What're listening to?" He grinned widely when Squall was stunned for another time. The brunet whipped his head around, sending a dagger right through and between Almasy's eyes.

"Music," he answered with a quiet snarl, his pace speeding up once more and Seifer matched his stride.

"It's kind of loud," he stated, ignoring the looks passersby gave to him and Squall; it seemed that communicating with the brunet seemed to be considered bizarre, but no matter, Seifer wasn't the one to pay much attention to the reputations of others, and besides, Squall was quite attractive in his own rare way, despite his anti-social personality-complex.

'_**Rare'**_ being the key word.

"Well, obviously it is not loud enough," Squall informed icily, trying to brush Almasy once more, "Your bothersome voice is distracting me from my music."

"Must be my angelic tone, then," Seifer sang conceitedly. Another glare was sent in his direction and he gave the pretty boy a smug grin. Squall proceeded to turn his music louder and ignored the outrageous blond. Seifer was about to continue with his antics when the bell sounded, much to Squall's relief.

"I'll guess I'll see you later, Princess," Seifer promised, but the leather-clad teenager was already around the corner. The blond sighed and grudgingly checked his timetable.

"Chemistry?" he practically whined to himself. The blond wasn't particularly fond the subject. His dislike started a few years ago with an old hag for a chemistry teacher. Seifer shuddered inwardly at the thought.

"The old bitch," he muttered darkly, slipping his timetable back into his file and stuffing it into his bag.

Grasping the silver handle, Almasy slid the door wide open and slammed it behind him as he strode in. Silence washed through the room as the class stopped and turned their attention to the newcomer. Seifer stared back; he may like attention, but this was too awkward.

"What?" he shot at them, his jade eyes narrowing into a glare. As if it was a reply, the class slowly and uneasily resumed to their previous activities, glancing at Seifer every few moments with curiosity and excitedly whispering to their friend beside them.

"Ah, you must be Seifer Almasy," a soft, but stern voice spoke out. Seifer whirled around, seeing a well groomed honey-blonde female, her hair pinned up in a fashionable clip, adorning her stylish hairstyle. Her blue eyes were sharp and ever watchful. Seifer gave a daring low whistle.

"Whoa, hello there. And you are?"

"Your teacher," the woman snapped, taking her place behind her desk, not once glancing at the other blond, "Go and sit down, Mr. Almasy. Class is about to start."

"Shit!" Seifer let out, showing a mock surprised expression on his face. Then he grinned, "You're a teacher? Shit, this is the best damn school yet."

The teacher pressed her pink lips in a firm line, adjusting her slim glasses. "Mr. Almasy, I will not tolerate such vulgar language in my class," she hissed, "Now sit down before I make you."

Seifer smirked, striding between the desks, ignoring curious glances from a majority of the class. He seated himself into the nearest unoccupied space. His duffel bag dropped to the floor beside him with a muffled thump. Seifer stared at the clock for a few moments and sighed to himself.

'_Okay,' _he told himself mentally, revising over his stupid mistake, '_I can't believe you tried to chat up a teacher. Nice Almasy, nice.'_

Several of his classmates sniggered, but he returned it with a crude, arrogant smile and several people grinned back, some even blew mocking kisses.

Quistis turned to the blackboard, commencing her lecture. Seifer stared at the board with disinterest, Quistis was explaining a complex formula that the blond already had the necessary knowledge about, and so, he leaned back into his chair to initiate an hour of daydreaming.

Seifer was in the middle of etching an inappropriate word into his desk when the door slid open. The class' attention was averted to the entrance where there stood Squall Leonhart in all his depressing glory.

"Mr. Leonhart," Quistis spoke up in the silence, "Do you have any idea of how late you are?"

Silvery eyes narrowed. Squall mumbled an abrupt apology, and threw himself into a chair at the back of the room, glaring at no one in particular before averting his attention to himself. The blonde teacher sighed and went back to the front of her class, retrieving a text book to lend it to the grey eyed boy. Seifer looked over his shoulder and observed the brunet, grinning.

"My, aren't you just the cheerful one," he poked sarcastically. Squall sneered at the blond, turning to gaze out the window.

"You seem jovial yourself," Squall returned coldly, eyes remaining elsewhere but Almasy, "Managed to tie your shoelaces?"

Seifer felt annoyingly rejected, but he brushed it off with a chuckle. "Yes, I'm rather proud actually."

"Whatever."

Minutes passed, and Seifer over and over again attempted to brew a conversation with the emotionless boy at the back, and over and over again he was denied, only receiving no more than a two word sentence and multiple of the now annoying word: "Whatever". He had tried all the topics he knew: music, weapons, women, sport and women again.

Squall used the best of his ability to block out one of Seifer's near graphic explanations of women, and some he expected were men, that blond had lured into his bed, because to Seifer, it was the only topic that at least conjured a tiny expressive reaction from the brunet.

Soon, Squall was maddened by the improper events pouring from the blond's mouth and regarded the blond just for a moment, just for a short moment to give well-placed insult.

"It's no wonder why you're so ridiculously thick; all the blood from your brain rushed to your tiny dick and now all you do is think with it."

Seifer was greatly offended, the tiniest smirk curling at the corner's of Squall's lips.

His dick?

_Tiny_?

A sudden realisation dawned on him; he was Seifer Almasy! No one disregards him, or even so much insults him and gets away with it. And no one insults his penis and ever lives. Knowing his reputation in his last school, he was the most desired person, and if he wasn't, he was the most admired.

He was not going to afford to lose to some one as small as Squall Leonhart.

Even if he was sexy as hell.

The bell chimed once again. The class began shuffling, sorting their workings back into their files and began leaving the classroom. Quistis quickly yelled out what was needed to be finished for homework before sitting down behind her desk after collecting the papers off the students' desks. Seifer was about to leave when he heard his chemistry professor speak.

"Squall, can I speak to you for a moment?" Trepe asked in a voice which was unusually kinder and softer than before. Seifer paused at the door, watching the brunet haul himself form the plastic seat and strolled heavily to the front, half dragging his messenger bag across the room. Squall stopped in front of Quistis, eyes cold and questioning. His stare made the teacher uncomfortable, making her shift subconsciously in her seat.

"Squall…" she began, "Your grades are dropping and your work presentation is slowly… Are you alright Squall?" Quistis asked, cutting to the point. Seifer noticed the brunette's jaw tensing up.

"I'm fine, Miss," Squall ground out. Quistis open her mouth to reply when her student interrupted her, "I'm going to be late for my next class. Excuse me."

The brunet silently slipped past Seifer through the doorway, his music once again screaming loudly in his ears. The blond stared after him, frowning slightly.

Who the hell did Squall think he was anyway? Even Seifer wasn't _that _disrespectful. Slowly, the blond began to agree on Rinoa's word; the boy was not someone to be socialized with, let alone looked at. Deep inside, a spark of unexplainable dislike for Squall lit brightly.

'Just because you're a pretty piece of art, does not mean that you rule everything around you,' Seifer thought hypocritically, growling slightly. Squall's insult still left wounds and Seifer was afraid, no, annoyed that the words might affect his performance. Sighing, Seifer left to wait outside his next class.

Seifer Almasy was going to make Squall feel more degraded than ever.

* * *

Good gawd, I love Fujin, that's why I made her kick ass in this chapter xD 

Yus, never insult Seifer's peepee.

PLEASE POINT OUT ANY MISTAKES.

And review!


	3. Three

**Title:**Sublime Animosity

**Rating:** M

**Genre:** Romance/Drama. Maybe slight angst.

**Pa****iring/s:** SeiferxSquall, implied IrvinexSquall in this chapter.

**Summary:** Bad boy Seifer Almasy enrolled into Balamb High, stealing and breaking hearts. But then a certain individual captures his eye; and despite what others say about him, Seifer is curious and determined to meet this boy. But will they get along?

**Disclaimer:** I DON'T EVEN OWN MY OWN SANITYYYYY :D

**Notes: **Uh, yus.

**Warnings:** YAOI, High School AU, OOC-ness, Swearing.

* * *

_**Chapter Three  
**_**Models Love Latte.**_**  
**_

Seifer Almasy was going to make Squall feel more degraded than ever.

And of course, Squall knew that; especially when he had seen the distasteful gleam in Seifer's green eyes. It was then Squall was suspicious of the blond's intentions, but he could only glare back for the meantime. He had not any time for annoying distractions, especially it being the last year of his high-school life style; Squall wanted to savour it before being thrown into the real world of bigger troubles and even more enormous conflicts.

Squall was seen as a pessimist, but it would be more proper to describe Squall's character as a logical thinker. He was sometimes a dreamer, but in the end the brunet would seek out the most idealistic path. He disliked those with high ambitions, yet too egotistical or lazy to create their own future, especially when they would boast about how their money would ensure them their desired course.

Perhaps Squall was just envious of their carefree ways.

All of a sudden, the brunet's world was dragged down by a powerful gravitational force. Snapping out of his thoughts, he found a little monkey in a yellow dress clinging to his back. Staggering under Selphie's weight for a moment, he sought balance and slid the joyful girl off of him. Grasping his arm, Selphie tugged him down the hall, Squall steady pace slowing her down.

"C'mon, Squally! We're gonna be late for music!" she wailed. Pulling Squall was like pulling a stubborn bull. She whined and cried, but Squall continued with his pace. The young girl quickly changed her strategy and started pushing Squall instead. "C'mon!" she urged, "My darling Anastasia is waiting for her mummy!"

Anastasia is what Selphie named her beloved guitar. She treated it like it was her precious, and prided it more than any other man to their instrument. She even sneaked out of class to tune the strings just in case.

Upon reaching the music studio, Selphie released the brunet and made a beeline toward her guitar that awaited her from across the room. A magnificent and old grand piano was left untouched in the corner and Squall decided to claim it. Slipping off a glove, Squall delicately pressed a finger against the middle C key before performing a scale to check for any mistunes. It was perfect.

Sighing in satisfaction, the young artist closed the cover over the keys and left the piano, settling beside Selphie on the windowsill. The cheerful babe was humming and plucking the string of her guitar, a sweet melody being stringed together through her chords. Squall vaguely remembered the song; Selphie had composed it especially for his birthday, and for that, he was grateful.

The song suddenly stopped and Selphie grinned slyly, moving closer to the moody boy. Squall blinked and moved back while the girl moved forward more.

"You should tell me to play that song more for you if it was gonna make you smile like that," she smirked in her own special way. Squall made a face to deny such things; he didn't smile, did he? Giggling and clutching her guitar to herself, Selphie pulled back, "Ah well, my song writing is awesome after all."

"Try not to flatter yourself to much," Squall warned just as Selphie's cell phone went off. Startled, the petite brunette shoved Anastasia into Squall's arms and hopped off the windowsill towards her bag. Fumbling through it, she finally pulled out a yellow cell phone burdened with numerous accessories.

"Selphieee hereee!" she sang, hopping back to her feet from a kneeling position. The girl nodded several times, and with an intone of 'Mmhm', she handed her phone over to Squall who accepted it politely.

"Leonhart here," Squall spoke into the receiver with a formative air. He naturally used his last name when answering phones, especially if he knew not the person he was talking to.

Selphie watched with fascination at the different emotions Squall showed with his eyes as it went from annoyed to stressful. Squall tugged at his sleeve, revealing a small watch. He stared at it for a few moments, quietly calculating something in his head as he quietly answered to the other person on the other end of the line in rather irritated tone.

The artist hung up and passed the device back to Selphie, who stared in bewilderment as Squall launched himself the sill and out the classroom, snatching his bag in one fluid movement. She glanced back at her phone's screen for the dialer's name and smiled.

"You're giving Squally a lot of stress, you know! It's giving him wrinkles," she scolded her phone as if blaming the person through it.

Squall hurried down the hallway, his heavy boots making it difficult to be a quiet trip. Muttering to himself, the brunet stopped at the end of the hallway and glanced around for any staff or rule-abiding goody-two-shoes students. Finding no one, he slipped around the corner and quickly padded down the empty corridor to where his locker laid.

The locker was vandalized with nasty words that were sprayed, written and etched by immature minds, but Squall paid them no heed. Gloved hands fumbling with the heavy lock, the young teenager hurriedly entered the combination to his locker and it clicked approvingly in return. Flinging the door open, the brunet shrugged off his bag as he reached in, retrieving a wrapped package and a small box.

Glancing around the room for any spying eyes, Squall swiftly stuffed the packages into his bag before slyly sneaking past the headmaster's office and escaping through one of the school's entrances. However, Squall has not yet left school grounds and there was still the threat of any wandering teachers.

Seifer took a long and refreshing drink of water, wiping the sweat off his brow. The blond was beginning to enjoy his new school; it prided itself in their sports facilities and student abilities, so competition was never scarce. His physical education teacher came up to him and gave the blond a warmhearted pat on the back.

"We could use you in some events, Seifer," the teacher acknowledged. Seifer grinned and returned the compliment with a handshake and 'I'll think about it'. He was about to step out onto the field again when a fleeting glimpse of black flashed in the corner of his eye.

Whirling around, Seifer caught Squall sneaking behind the stadium's grandstand. The brunet's movements were obviously suspicious, but Seifer's curiousity got the better of him and he followed, despite his unclean sport clothing.

Sure that he wasn't spotted, Squall broke into a sprint as soon as he left the school grounds, worriedly checking his watch again. Squall's sudden change in pace took Seifer by surprise and he pursued the smaller male as silent and unnoticeably as possible.

Curiosity drove Seifer to follow the suspicious teenager. The many possibilities of reasons for the brunet truanting flew through his head, some not so well mannered. Halting to a stop, Seifer followed Squall to a quaint café in a quiet part of the city.

Perhaps the brunet worked here? Such a theory was most likely, but as he watched Squall bought a coffee, Seifer was proved wrong. Although, as the blond watched the brunet question the person behind the counter he saw the waiter give several directions with his hand and Squall nodding in response. Squall emerged from the café with the coffee cup in his hand, but Almasy also had found it odd that Squall did not drink his purchased beverage; was he going to save it for later, or was it for someone else?

Holding his bag tighter to himself, Squall wandered around to the back of the café with Seifer on his tail. As the brunet stopped, Almasy stooped behind a pile of stacked boxes, well away from sight. He watched the sulky brunet keenly from a safe distance, more suspicious and more determined to discover the brunet's reason for sneaking out during school hours.

"You're late, darlin'," a smooth voice drawled like liquid. The arrogant blond watched as a finely dressed man stroll up to Squall with an air of elegance. Handsome was his face, and sweet was his smile.

Seifer had never seen Irvine Kinneas so close before. What was Squall doing with a highly famous actor turned model?

The brunet quietly scoffed and shoved the coffee against the Irvine's chest, causing the star to stumble backwards with surprise, the hot drink almost spilling all over the man. Irvine patted himself down incase of any damages and sighed in relief when he found none.

"You were just around the café. Buy your own drink next time," Squall muttered darkly. Pressing the coffee to his lips, the model repeated, "You were late, darlin'."

"Late," Squall imitated, absolutely deadpan, suppressing his annoyance and glared defiantly at the long-haired man. "Late," he said once more in the deadly tone, "You accuse me of being late?"

Irvine laughed merrily, but before he could answer, the model was silenced by another threatening glare of annoyance. Shifting all his weight to one foot and folding his arms, Squall frowned before speaking again.

"Whatever."

Irvine raised a well shaped eyebrow at Squall's small response, but was not fazed; he only grinned at the grumpy boy, carefully sipping his drink politely, waiting for Squall to continue with his words.

"Just as you ordered, you're Highness?" Squall stated daringly with a mocking tone, watching the model swallow the coffee with a lingering thought. Irvine showed Squall a lovely smile, before sipping from the cup again.

"A decaf latte with skim milk and caramel syrup, I presume?" the long-haired man quoted cheekily, raising the cup questionably and shaking the contents inside lightly.

"And extra foam," Squall finished, confirming with a small nod, adjusting the uncomfortable strap on his shoulder. Kinneas hummed thoughtfully, licking the latte off his lips, watching the brunet waiting for him patiently. Discarding the empty coffee cup, Irvine led the brunet to a fancy limousine, the chauffeur obediently holding the door open for Irvine and Squall.

"Ladies first, darlin'," Irvine mock bowed, showing the brunet into the car. The young male scowled at Irvine's offered hand: he despised it when Irvine treated him like some common woman to be wooed, but when the model continued to pester him, the brunet eventually took his hand. Grabbing his hand, Irvine kissed it affectionately, grinning as he did so. Retracting his hand in surprise, Squall glared up at the attractive man, cheeks flushed with annoyance.

Seifer was slightly shocked; perhaps this was the man that one of Rinoa's friends had mentioned before? The man that Squall was seen to be with in suspicious parts?

Determined to find answers, Seifer boldly stepped into view. Catching movement in the corner of his eye, Squall whipped his head around and nearly reeled back in disbelief. Silver eyes hardened into a threatening glare as Squall took a defensive stance in front of Almasy. Irvine simply glanced at the blond with confusion, before grinning and slinging an arm over Squall's shoulders.

"Never told me you had a stalker, Squall," the handsome star joked, shaking the brunet beside him in a single-handed hug. The teenager merely shrugged him off, dismissing the intruding blond with a scoff.

"Whatever."

"I'm Leonhart's friend," Seifer quipped arrogantly as another icy glare was sent in his direction. Kinneas beamed delightfully, pulling Squall back onto the pathway before the teenager had a chance to step into the car. Squall mumbled angrily, swatting the model away.

"That egotistical bastard is not my friend," Squall sneered, deflating Irvine's expectations. Seifer forced a painful smile and an even more painful unnatural laugh. Shrugging his shoulders casually, the large blond strode forward, meeting Leonhart toe to toe.

"Would you like to rephrase that?" he challenged, towering over the lithe male. The brunet scoffed and turned away, returning the statement with a rude "Whatever."

Politely, Irvine smiled and stepped back to allow Squall into the vehicle which the brunet was quick to enter. Turning back to the blond, the model winked.

"Why don't we take your friend for a ride, eh, Squall?"

Squall's pretty eyes widened uncharacteristically and he slammed the door shut forcefully; Irvine had to jump back before he got crushed against the car. Carefully prying the door open, in case the brunet was provoked to slam it shut again, Irvine poked his head into the car, faced with a rather calm Squall.

"Now, be polite and move over," he cooed. Steely grey eyes flashed disapprovingly and the moody teenager slouched in his position, confirming that he would not budge. Sighing, the celebrity reached out and pushed Squall, the boy easily sliding across the smooth leather covered seat and Irvine clambered into the car next to Squall.

"Good boy," he smirked as Seifer more than willingly took the spot across from the two. Glaring, Squall busied himself with a notepad and his music as expensive beverages were passed around.

Scribbling out another mistake, the brunet found annoyance in Irvine finding Seifer's company rather enjoyable during the trip; and as another round of laughter filled the limousine, the pen in Squall's hand snapped under his painful grip.

Ink spilling everywhere, the young artist hissed and flinched away from the mess. It stained his clothing and his face, but at least his hands were gloved, or he would have black fingers for a long time. Fussing over the messy brunet, Irvine dabbed a cloth on his tongue before smearing it across Squall's high cheekbone, erasing the ink.

"Careful," he warned, repeating his cleansing method, Squall rather uncomfortable in this situation, especially when he could feel Seifer's mocking green eyes staring straight at him. He jumped as he felt soft lips touch the side of his face, blushing angrily as Irvine pulled away.

"There, all clean," the model said affectionately. Fuming with embarrassment and disgrace, Squall lashed out with a punch, catching Kinneas in the jaw. Seifer nearly choked on his drink at the attack, watching the whole action play out right in front of him.

"Don't," the furious brunet hissed, shaking with forced calm. Irvine grinned, tenderly pressing his fingers to his cut lip. Seifer just simply stared in silence; no one in their right mind would hit a celebrity. Irvine coolly leaned back into his seat and turned his attention to Seifer.

"Don't worry about it," he said airily with an amused grin, "He does worse, trust me."

The cold eyes of Squall sent a dagger towards the two, disarming them of any comments about him or the situation.

The rest of the ride was enjoyed, mostly by Squall, in silence; Seifer still in shock about the unexpected attack and Irvine tended to his minor injury. Almasy wanted to say something, but the halting of the car kept his mouth firmly shut.

The trip brought the three to a large studio, and Squall did not bother to wait for the chauffeur to open the door for him.

The brunet was already inside the building before either of his two companions stepped out of the vehicle. Seifer had to step back several paces to view the whole building. The walls were of metal and glass, reflecting the sun's rays into his eyes. Irvine beckoned for him to hurry ahead, the both entering the building swiftly together.

Both men were immediately swarmed with people. A lady hurriedly removed Irvine's coats, whilst another carried off Irvine's hat. Almasy felt slightly overwhelmed, but the celebrity allowed everything to take its 'natural' course. A woman thrust a clipboard at his chest, and Irvine called for a pen, skimming through the letter and swiftly signing it.

"Mister Kinneas, sir, teal or aqua?" a petite brunette inquired, displaying two blue fabrics in her hand. She had to jog to keep up with the fast moving crowd. Seifer could have laughed with amusement; both looked of the exact same colour to him. Signing another document, Irvine grabbed the fabric in the girl's right arm and threw it over his shoulder.

"Keep the aqua one," he answered politely, closing his eyes briefly as make-up was applied on his face, and soon his hair was attended to. A stylish coat was pushed against his shoulders and he shrugged it on. When the celebrity halted abruptly, the building fell quiet.

"Who is the designer of this coat?" he said deadly quietly. He turned around with suppressed annoyance, everyone backing away. "Where the hell is Squall? Get him here now! SQUALL!"

"You're Highness," a voice dripped with sarcasm. Staring at the model for a few moments, Squall quirked an eyebrow, "What are you wearing?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Irvine answered. The two exchanged silent glances before Squall sighed and turned around.

"Very well," he muttered, "Velvet Rouge it is."

Irvine grinned at Squall's answer. Seifer watched in confusion as Squall strolled off and he turned to face the model. It was like Irvine and brunet had a mind reading conversation, the two were like in perfect sync.

"Velvet Rogue?" the blond questioned, watching as Irvine discarded the high quality jacket onto the floor with disgust. Brushing his caramel locks out of his face, Irvine grinned merrily.

"It's one of Squall's clothing lines," Irvine answered briefly, fixing his wrinkled shirt, "And of course, my favourite of his creations so far."

"Flattered," Squall mentioned dryly, crimson clothing dangling from his arms. Seifer watched in interest as a flock of workers swarmed Squall to take his burden off his arms. Childishly, the brunet clutched it close to him to avoid any grabbing fingers. Irvine laughed genuinely.

"Say, Almasy…" the model started, Seifer turning to him with undivided attention. Cocking his head to the side, Irvine gave a dashing grin, "How about a photo shoot with me?"

* * *

WHOA. WENT WAAAY OFF TRACK IN THIS CHAPTER. 

I hope you like my Irvine.

'Cause I love the damn guy so much.

I can tell you that meeting Irvine will allow Almasy to pry further into Squall's life.

Ohyesitwill!

Please point out many mistakes, my writing ability is failing!

Thankyou!


	4. Four

**Title:**Sublime Animosity

**Rating:** M

**Genre:** Romance/Drama. Maybe slight angst.

**Pa****iring/s:** SeiferxSquall, implied IrvinexSquall in this chapter.

**Summary:** Bad boy Seifer Almasy enrolled into Balamb High, stealing and breaking hearts. But then a certain individual captures his eye; and despite what others say about him, Seifer is curious and determined to meet this boy. But will they get along?

**Disclaimer:** I DON'T EVEN OWN MY OWN SANITYYYYY :D

**Notes:** Er, lots of lameness in this chapter? And queerness too, and Squall is weird.

**Warnings:** YAOI, High School AU, OOC-ness, Swearing.

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

**Only Real Men Wear Make Up.**

"Say, Almasy…" the model started, Seifer turning to him with undivided attention. Cocking his head to the side, Irvine gave a dashing grin, "How about a photo shoot with me?"

"Honestly?" Seifer was honoured as Irvine smiled with a gracious wink. Of course he was willing to share his charm with the world. Fame would be a good thing in his books, and of course, the money that would come with it. Seifer felt complied to take the offer and smirked arrogantly. With confidence of his dashing good looks, he opened his mouth to accept the offer, but an odd screech stopped him from doing so. Both the model and the blond student stared at Squall, who had his hand clapped over his mouth.

Releasing his lips slowly, the brunet stepped forward over to Irvine with a face of dead seriousness. This unnerved the model slightly, but he kept his questioning face.

"Irvine, you can't," Squall stated, more than pleaded. He shot Seifer a dangerous leer and pulled Irvine behind a screen. Almasy watched as Squall led the star away, knowing full well the reason why. Squall pinched the bridge of his nose in silence, Irvine patiently waiting for his statement. Looking up at violet eyes, Squall took a breath.

"I want Almasy out of this building," the brunet demanded with a deadly whisper. Before Irvine to reason, Squall continued in the same quiet tone, "I will not have that brute wearing my clothes."

The model chuckled and smiled, placing his hand on Squall's shoulders. Squall was startled as Irvine began pushing and marching him out from behind the screen, and into view again. Collecting the clothing into his arms, Irvine marched the poor brunet up to the large blond and patted him on the back as a friendly gesture.

"Squall," he started, "To be a professional, you need to be accepting, darlin'."

The dark teenager looked as he would kill himself. Squall refused to meet either Irvine or Almasy's gaze. A piece of dark cloth was draped over Seifer's shoulders and Irvine stepped back to inspect it, hand on his chin. Squall watched with annoyance as Irvine did his work, Seifer performing grand poses.

"What do you think, Squall?" the star asked, patting the material down, "Is it his colour?"

'Of course it's not,' Squall's mind wanted to answer. He knew Irvine's tricks; the model was using ways to tempt the young fashion designer into somehow contributing his opinion. Irvine knew that Squall was quite the perfectionist, and sometimes acts obsessively if unperfected things annoyed him enough.

"Whatever," Squall muttered, choosing his alternative answer, "I want him out now."

Irvine flashed a malicious grin, slipping the material off Seifer and throwing it into Squall's arms. The brunet glared silently at the star's reaction; this obviously was not a good sign.

"I expect Seifer to be dressed and transformed in twenty minutes," Irvine ordered, a professional voice replacing his own; and as Squall about to protest, the celebrity delivered the final blow, "If not, you can forget about the Chinese silk that I ordered. How long have you been waiting for it? Three months, am I right?"

Squall froze in place, his long fingers clutching the cloth in anger. Bloody blackmail; he hated how malicious Irvine's mind could work. He raised his chin with pride, eyes narrowed dangerously. Squall wanted to challenge the star's statement, but he knew Irvine was serious about his threat. A moody aura surrounded the teenager and he walked away with a deadly calm pace. Irvine motioned for Almasy to follow, who was more than thrilled to comply.

Squall rounded around towards a dressing table with an enormous mirror, blinding lights decorating the frame. Seifer leisurely took a seat as Squall silently fumbled around. As Squall walked up to the broad man, he took disgust towards the brute's filthy clothing. He bit his lower lip and knitted his eyebrows in concentration before lifting a delicate hand and snapping his long fingers. True to the speed of sound, Squall and Seifer was flocked with many, offering a range of make up. The brunet carefully chose several cases and equipment before dismissing the group. They all ran off, eying Seifer with delicious leers. Almasy smirked.

Frowning down at the blond, Squall slammed the make up on the table top; the loud smack of glass against wood startled Seifer from his flirtatious mood. Squall's calm face remained, but his deadly, cold eyes suggested his patience should not be tempted. Seifer's green eyes watched as Squall nimble hands twist, flip and slide open all the containers in a fluid motion.

"Go wash up," Squall told Seifer quietly, not wanting to make a conversation. He pointed in the direction of the bathroom, "Shower if you must, but make it quick. I'll present your clothes later."

"Wash up?" Seifer repeated, looking at the bathroom's direction. Squall held his cold gaze.

"You're filthy," he stated as-a-matter-of-fact, "Don't make me repeat myself."

"As you command, Princess," Seifer obliged, pushing up from the seat. He trudged towards the bathroom, feeling Squall's hardened eyes on his back. Just before the entrance, the blond turned around, "Care to join me?"

Squall almost dropped the make up onto the floor, containers falling across the table. With everything secure in his arms as he leaned across the table to catch an escaping lipstick, Squall glared over his shoulder in Almasy's direction. The blond laughed gleefully at the reaction before entering the bathroom.

Squall faltered and succumbed into a chair, pinching the bridge of his nose again. His face burned with a blush at Seifer's statement and he tried to cool himself down through deep breaths. Opening his eyes, Squall wandered over to his dropped bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a water bottle. He paced around the room and took several sips. Honestly, he had to his revenge on Irvine. The man could be so evil whenever he wishes.

The young artist wondered why such bad luck had befallen him on such an important day of photo productions. Does some almighty being from above take glee in his frustrations? It irritated Squall how Seifer suddenly came barging into his private life on their first day of introduction. It had barely been a day since Almasy had arrived and what was worse, the arrogant blond already caught Squall off guard one too many times with lecherous remarks.

"This is pretty good material."

Squall jumped and pivoted on the spot, his face catching into a piece of crimson satin. Flustered, the brunet pulled it off and found himself facing one of Almasy's arrogant grins. Squall chocked on his water as soon as he discovered Almasy was stark naked, save the decent towel around his waist. He managed to stop his face from flushing darkly as he closed his eyes slowly and turned away, falling victim to a coughing fit.

After regaining his breath, the younger teenager dropped into a seat, but still refused to look at Seifer's naked frame dripping with water. "What are you doing?" he managed to hiss, fingers clawing at hairdresser's scissors left on the tabletop, tempted to gauge the blond's heart out. Seifer crooned at Squall's distressed behaviour.

"Well, the clothes weren't there after I finished my shower," Seifer grinned, moving to stand right in front of Squall. The brunet looked up and tensed when he was faced with the blond's crotch. Whirling around, Squall leapt off his chair and scurried to the other side of the room.

"Stay there," Squall ordered, his calm voice betrayed by his pink cheeks. He hurried off in a random direction and skidded behind a pillar to catch his breath. Glaring to himself, Squall mentally scolded his reactions, feeling awfully stupid at the moment. It took him only a few seconds to compose his stature before he stepped out from behind the pillar and made his way back to the dressing room where Seifer waited; but as soon as he returned, Seifer was nowhere to be found. Panic rushing through the stressed brunet, he chewed his lip and flew outside the door.

"Relax, Leonhart," Almasy chuckled, cat-like eyes glinting with amusement, "I was just in the walk-in closet."

Squall peered back into the room to see Seifer in all his naked glory. The brunet, to Seifer's disappointment, remained expressionless. Squall commanded Almasy to sit down and stay there like an obedient dog. Seifer did as he was told, but unnecessarily sat with his legs spread in a manly manner. Squall wanted to commit double homicide then and there. He entered the closet and flicked through his many designs, wondering which of his clothing he would sacrifice with the obnoxious brute. A labelled suit bag caught his attention and he pulled it out, skimming through the note on the front.

'_I think that this would suit Seifer rather nicely, love Irvine.' _

"Traitor," Squall sneered, opening the suit bag. His anger was fuelled when he discovered it to be one of his latest creations, one of those he favoured. Squall buried his face into the material, feeling the need to release his stress.

"Does it really feel that nice?"

Seifer grinned as he saw Squall's narrow shoulders jolt at the sound of his voice. Removing his face from the clothing, Squall didn't dare turn around. Although, Seifer's close contact made it difficult for him to restrain his irritation. The brunet was startled when Seifer leaned over him, his chest pressing against his back.

"Is that for me?" Seifer asked innocently, but Squall knew otherwise. Feeling a warm breath against his cheek, Squall muttered a forced, "Yes."

The blond was again disappointed when the usually quiet teenager did not react in the slightest at the act of invading his personal space. Squall kept his face hidden as he passed the costume over to Seifer and slipped quickly past the larger male.

Squall occupied himself over the make up as he waited for Seifer to get changed. He glared at his reflection before rubbing his tired eyes. Squall would have the Chinese silk within his possession even if it kills him, or worse; such as working with Seifer. The closet door creaked open and Seifer stepped out, flourished with rich crimson and pale fiery colours.

"You really have a thing for belts, Leonhart," Seifer mused, strapping a third belt across his waist as he observed the many other leather straps adorning Squall. "The one for whips and chains, are you?"

"Sit down," Squall sneered, turning to the blond; and he stared. Hyne damn bloody Irvine to hell. Why did the damned model always have to be right? Pursing his lips, Squall leered at Seifer with icy eyes, "Remind me to burn that after. You look awful."

"I think I'm sexy enough for your designs, Leonhart. Irvine seems to believe so," Seifer sighed in a tone that could be taken as hurt, "You really are too cruel."

"Try me," Squall challenged dryly, waiting for Seifer to take his seat. Squall flicked out foundation powder and applied it to a professional's brush. "Close your eyes," he said quietly. Seifer took Squall's honest and polite tone into account and obeyed. Before the brush reached Seifer's face, Squall's hand twitched with restraint. He glared down at Seifer's calm expression with cold, cold eyes, and Almasy felt a little insecure. Squall forced himself not to stab the blond in the face.

The soft bristles against Seifer's skin were rather soothing, and he found the make up to be rather light, surprisingly. Almasy opened his eyes when he heard Squall snap the foundation powder shut.

"I didn't tell you to open you eyes," Squall muttered irritably, fumbling around for eye shadow. The blond looked at Squall's features and pondered.

"Do you wear make up, Leonhart?"

"No."

This surprised Seifer slightly. In fact, it was a wonder really. Squall moved forward and motioned for Seifer to close his eyes. A gentle brush swept across Seifer's eyelids and he could feel a small wisp of Squall breath on his face. As much as a little queer Seifer felt at the moment, he had to admit that applying make up to one's face is quite nice. Seifer chuckled to himself at the thought.

"What are you laughing about?" Squall accused, pulling back. Seifer looked at the brush held delicately in Squall's hand and grinned.

"I feel like a fucking fag right now," he jested, and he stopped for a second, "Is that pink you're making me wear?"

"Its alizarin, not pink," Squall leered, putting the eye shadow to one side. Almasy laughed for a brief moment, feeling his manliness dropping a few notches. Seifer could never understand how people have the ability to tell one shade from the other.

"Close your eyes aga-"

"MISTER LEONHART, SIR!" a distressed redhead burst through the door. The door flung open, catching Squall in the back, causing him to stumble and fall into the arms of Seifer Almasy. This caught Seifer by surprise too, who was also not ready, nor expecting a lap full of Leonhart.

"Am I interrupting something?" the redhead squeaked, trembling and flushing.

"No!" the two teenagers denied in unison and the young woman flustered, continuing on much to the two's relief.

"Mister Leonhart, sir," she repeated in a hurried and panicked tone, "We have a problem with Irvine. I think he h-"

Squall pushed away from Seifer and sped out the door, "Alicia, have Neil's team complete Almasy's hair and makeup."

The woman nodded and told Seifer to stay calm and stay right where he was before slipping out of sight. It was only a few moments until a flood of people packed the room and treated Seifer's body like he was a god. Overwhelmed, Seifer was, but very pleased at the same time.

"Squall, I've… we've got such a terrible crisis," Irvine moaned, a bottle of wine left next to the star. Squall thought it would be wise to pry the alcohol away from the model and he stored it away from sight. Squall sighed and folded his arms, awaiting the terrible news. Sobering up for a moment, Irvine turned on his chair to face Squall.

"Your collection, Siren, has been lost."

Squall stared; his entire body had gone rigid. The young teenager trembled with disbelief. He backed into the wall, his breathing a little heavy. "H-how?"

"Just kidding! I just wanted you to get me a fruit salad, darlin'!" Irvine laughed, his expression brightening up in an instant. Squall felt the urge to kill as the star grinned at the poor deceived teenager, "And you said I couldn't act, Squall darlin'. Despite by career change, I'm still a movie star."

Squall dropped to the floor, heart beating with anguish and relief. He glared at Irvine with a stare so icy that the model felt his insides freeze up a little. Perhaps such a joke was not well played against the dangerous teenager. Irvine felt insecure when Squall swaggered to his feet and tried his best charming smile.

"You don't have you get me that fruit salad!" he said hurriedly, in case it calmed the brunet. Squall's expression was as emotionless as ever.

"No, its fine," the brunet mumbled, walking out the door with regained composure, "I cannot guarantee that it won't be poisoned."

Seifer felt like the emperor of the world with people under his command, performing everything of his every whim. He had seen himself in the mirror, and was shocked; not in the sense of horror, but he never would have thought he could appear in such a style. It was creative beyond his tastes, but it suited him quite well. While the make up was bold, it was of natural colours. Colours Squall had chosen…

That's it, Leonhart was definitely queer.

Seifer's attention was adverted when he heard Irvine being announced to the set. Indeed the model look handsome, a long coat and beautiful accessories adorned the man. There was a mysterious aura in the man's atmosphere. It felt exciting.

He watched at Squall carefully and artistically create an elegant theme on Irvine's face. Dark, thick eyeliner surrounding Irvine's eye allowed his violet orbs to stand out; Squall indeed knew what he was doing. From a distance, the blond noticed something in Squall. The young brunet looked so natural standing there, freely making Irvine into a masterpiece. The frown was no longer on his lips, but he wasn't smiling either.

"Infatuated, are we?" Irvine called out to Seifer from the stage. One of his eyes was open to peer at Seifer, lips curling at the corners. Squall frowned, forced Irvine's head to tilt upwards, warning to model not to move. Seifer smirked, brushing off the make up artist and strolling up to Irvine in his heavy leather boots.

"Maybe just a bit," he agreed honestly, the studio lights hitting the blond like a holy beam of light. Having Seifer stand next to Irvine in such a tasteful appearance caused almost everyone in the building to swoon and faint. After all, their job was their passion and what a masterpiece they have made. Squall had to admit to being impressed, but his mask off indifference did not slip in the slightest.

Squall slipped away as soon as the cameraman called for attention and Irvine automatically slipped into model mode. Seifer had the impression of a vampire theme from the type of clothing they both wore, and especially the make up; bright eyes and pale skin.

Damn, he looked fabulous.

The few first shots were awkward at first; the flashes of light burned his retinas, and the poses didn't quite come to him, but it soon became more natural. The photographer groaned and dropped his camera disappointedly, the device dangling around his neck. It caught even Irvine by surprise; had they done something wrong?

"There's something not quite right," the photographer mused to himself. His accent was thick, but easily understood. He paced around in a circle, lost in his own head. "There's something missing."

"What?" Irvine asked curiously, inspecting himself. In return, the cameraman shook his head waving a dismissive hand.

"No, no, no. As lovely as you both appear, the photos are missing some spark… Something like…" he paused from a long moment, trying to find the word he had lost, "Something more delicious, perhaps playful. Appealing and dangerous is what I want."

"Appealing and dangerous?" Irvine repeated very slowly, nodding his head to his words. The model resumed the center stage, most likely understanding what the photographic artist had explained.

"Remove the coats," Squall spoke up, deadpan. All attention turned onto the brunet. He shrugged disinterestedly, folding his arms. "Remove the coats," he repeated. It took Seifer several seconds to register the reason, but Irvine immediately followed Squall's suggestion. He dumped the jacket onto the floor and his beautiful chest was revealed to the world. His co-workers screamed with delight.

"You look ridiculous," Squall insulted, jogging up to the stage. Scooping up the discarded clothing, Squall motioned for Irvine to put it on again. Irvine sighed.

"I just took it off."

"Put it on," Squall ordered and eventually, Irvine obeyed. About to button up the coat, Squall stopped him and instead slipped the coat over Irvine's shoulders so the jacket now clung to the model's arms and back, leaving his chest and shoulders to be revealed. Squall stepped back a few paces to observe his artistry.

"It's perfect!" the photographer cried out from the side, his camera ready in his eager hands. Satisfied with the cameraman's reaction, Squall looked at Seifer in silence. Seifer understood Squall's ordered and moved to undo the buttons. The blond found it a hard time unbuttoning his coat and Squall grew impatient. Knocking Almasy's hands out of the way, Squall nimbly undid the row of buttons, forcibly spun the blond around and ripped the coat off his back. It all happened in a blur for Seifer; but he was pleased to be undressed by a pretty brunet.

Squall draped the jacket over Seifer's shoulders, so it hung there, signifying the broadness of Seifer's frame. A team of fashion artists catcalled and jeered at the blond rather playfully. Seifer was about to grin at them, but Squall's hands almost choked him as they spun him around. He looked down at the brunet, who seemed quite small compared to him. Squall paid his face no attention, his hands smoothing out the creases of Seifer's coat and straightening the accessories that dangled from it. Pulling back, Squall did not even look at Irvine as he walked off the set, taking his place next to the photographer once more with an expressionless face, excluding his eyes of ice.

Another round of camera flashes was made.

"You can keep it."

"Honestly?" Seifer asked in awe, looking down at the fashionable coat.

"WHAT?"

Both Irvine and Seifer stared at Squall, who was also surprised by his own outburst. Calmly sitting back down, the brunet resumed to his drink and Irvine snickered, idly stirring his lemon and lime bitter.

"Sure," Irvine answered Seifer's question, "Think of it as gift from Squall and I."

Squall muttered darkly from his spot, eying Almasy venomously. Standing up, Irvine snugged his beloved cowboy hat onto his head and flipped Seifer a crème card. "My contacts," Irvine grinned when Seifer reached over to pick it up, "Feel free to have a shoot with us. Squall would be delighted."

Squall shot the model a warning glare and both Irvine and Seifer smirked in unison. Irvine took one long last drink from his glass and shook Seifer's hand, patting him on the shoulder.

"Tell Selphie-babe and Zell my regards, darlin'," Irvine reminded the brunet and he turned away to the long corridor. Squall suddenly shot up from his seat, dragging his bag with him. Seifer watched the leather-clad teenager run up Irvine and initiated a small conversation. The teenager quickly pulled out a package and small box from his bag and carefully handed them over to Irvine. It took a few moments for Irvine to unwrap the presents and as he did so, his expression brightened.

Seifer watched with shock when Irvine suddenly backed Squall against the wall and kissed him fully on the lips then and there. He never noticed his own drink spilling onto his lap.

* * *

Aha D That's right. I'mma bit of an IrvinexSqually fan.

But you gotta admit, there were some SeiferxSquall hints, with Seifer hitting on the poor moody Squall in his naked glory.

Ah yes, and to **Cloudface**, thanks for pointing out my mistake. The last chapter was written on different days… and yes, you can see how I went wrong. Thank you again! And also to **Cold Drake Queen**; there, you wanted them shirtless, I gave you... Well, near-shirtless xD

Please review and ESPECIALLY point out mistakes I can fix D:

I don't have a beta xD


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